


if we're talkin body (you've got a perfect one)

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Acrobatics, Body Worship, Hickeys, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, a little bit of praise kink maybe?, handjobs, idk what tagging is or the purpose of life, its in a common area i guess, its porn in a gym, that lead to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dickdami week day 2- Flexibility (+ body worship.) </p><p>Dick is distracting in the gym when Damian's trying to train. Not that he's complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if we're talkin body (you've got a perfect one)

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on tumblr (@hoevarr) for dickdamiweek2016. title from talkin body by tove lo (the kream remix, if anyone cares, is my fav.)

Damian liked training with Dick. He liked being with Dick in general, really, and he was a more adequate training partner than most others he knew, one of the few that Damian considered a match (or at least, near so) to his own abilities. Sometimes, though, Damian wished he wouldn’t be so goddamn  _ distracting.  _

 

The gym didn’t lack for things to occupy one’s attention. There were punching bags, free weights, weightlifting equipment, yoga mats (multi-colored, at Stephanie’s insistence,) and the most recent exercise machines. With the whole family involved in less-than-lazy nightlife activities, their survival pretty much depended on their fitness, so nothing less would be expected. 

 

Try as he might, though, Damian couldn’t focus on the punching bag in front of him. He’s taken a few swings at it, wasn’t doing too badly, when a flash of blue emerged in his peripheral. 

 

He had looked over, immediately captivated by Dick, swinging around on exercise bars in the far corner. He was lithe, graceful, every inch an acrobat. 

 

Damian appreciated the view that Dick’s tight blue tanktop and obscenely small black shorts gave him, but at the same time he was agitated. Didn’t Dick know what he was doing? Could he pick any other time to show off? Of course not, it had to be the only time Damian had all day to get his workout in, and now he was standing there doing nothing. If the League could only see him now, he grumbled to himself in his thoughts, starry-eyed and smitten. 

 

It wouldn’t do. 

 

Dick’s skin glistened with sweat, and dark patches were visible on his shirt. Where most people would look gross in such a situation, Dick made it work, looking the Golden Boy as always. 

 

He supported himself with one arm on the bar, muscles taut, perfect form. A sort of serene concentration washed over his features. He held the pose for a few seconds, along with Damian’s gaze, before swinging around, using it to flip- first, with one arm, then two. He craned his legs up so that his feet were level with his head, in a V formation in midair, then did the same backwards. 

 

Like an origami crane, he bent and folded himself into an impressive display of shapes and figures. 

 

Dick flipped around the bar again, then let go of it, launching himself into the air, arms outstretched. He did a backflip in the air, landing on his feet like a cat, before padding over to the yoga mats in the corner. 

 

Damian blinked, shaking his head, attempting to concentrate on the shiny leather of the punching bag in front of him. 

He got back into his stance, getting a few swings in, shifting to be able to hit it harder from a different angle- and got a perfect view of Grayson wiggling his ass in the air. 

 

It was what he called doing yoga, but it looked to Damian more like an enticement or an intro to a porno. He was so distracted the bag came swinging back and thudded him the thigh. 

 

He sighed, grabbing onto it to stabilize it before shifting away, making no secret of the fact that he was just watching Grayson now, not even trying to be subtle or preoccupy himself. He had no choice but to go over and ask him to please, think of the people, or Damian would have to end his training session early, and he didn’t have time for that. Grayson clearly didn’t want him to get anything done, or he would have some respect and decency and- Damian swallowed. Not be doing splits, sinewy thighs and calves stretched taut, back muscles flexing as he leaned forward to touch his toes. 

 

This was an absolutely unfair display, Damian decided. Grayson didn’t need to train at all. He already had the advantage, with an ass like  _ that,  _ all he’d have to do was walk onto the battlefield and turn around while wearing yoga pants. 

 

And that was another image for another day- Damian filed it away for later, sighing, walking over to Dick. 

 

Dick was now doing downward facing dog, black spandex stretched tightly over the globes of his ass right in Damian’s eyeline. He wasn’t going to make this easy, apparently.  

 

“Grayson,” he called out, but Dick’s eyes didn’t so much as flutter open from his serene, ridiculous pose. 

 

“Grayson!” He called again, louder and sharper than he’d intended, by now exasperated; the arousal he’d been fighting was starting to make itself known. 

 

(The way it was making itself known, besides Damian losing focus and being preoccupied, was a rather uncomfortable growing semi in his basketball shorts, which… Weren’t the ideal wear for concealing such things, to say the least. Not that Dick, of all people, seemed to be concerned with concealing much of anything at all… And that was the issue, wasn’t it.)

 

This time, Dick’s head snapped up, making eye contact with Damian. 

 

“Sup, little D?” he asked casually, like he didn’t see the problem at all. (To be fair, a little voice in the back of Damian’s mind said, he might not. He was oblivious sometimes. It was disgustingly endearing.) 

 

“This cannot continue.” 

 

Dick didn’t look at all bothered by Damian’s comment. He shifted out of downward facing dog so that he was sitting normally, then proceeded to go about putting his foot behind his head. 

 

Damian had to use every ounce of self control to peel his eyes away from Dick’s crotch. Dick was casually talking, though the sound just floated through Damian’s ear and out the other, unregistered. 

 

“Your display is incredibly distracting. It would be best if you would have the common sense to move it elsewhere so the rest of us can actually get some training done without our eyes being assaulted by-” he gestured at Dick. 

 

Dick raised an eyebrow, bringing his foot back to a normal position. “Damian, you’re the only other person here.” 

 

“Tt. That’s hardly relevant.” 

 

Dick’s grin was playful, teasing. “Oh, I think it is.” 

 

Damian felt heat rise to his cheeks. 

 

Dick turned over, slowly lifting himself up in a handstand, then gracefully lowering his legs so that they folded under his abdomen. The motion caused his shirt to ride up- or maybe fall down was the more apt term, given the stance- and Dick’s abs were exposed, sweat causing them to glisten. Had Damian had heat vision, he would have burned a scorching gaze into Dick’s happy trail at the moment. 

 

This wasn’t lost on Dick, and he was smirking as he rose, back to a position that would have been comfortable to even the average joe, sitting on his feet. 

 

“Like the view?” he asked cheekily. 

 

Damian grunted. 

 

Dick was hot, and he knew it. That’s why, when he peeled his sweat soaked tank top off with a wink, tossing it across the room, Damian kinda wanted to strangle him. 

 

Mostly, though, he just wanted to lick his abs. (That was a totally normal reaction, he reasoned, for anyone seeing Dick Grayson shirtless.) 

 

“Why don’t you do something about it?” he teased, flashing his thousand-watt smile at Damian expectantly. Well, how could anyone say no to that? 

 

They couldn’t. It was inhuman. Impossible. Damian found himself closing the gap between them in two easy steps, leaning down to capture Grayson’s mouth with his own. 

 

Dick’s mouth opened hungrily, wanton as always, and he was already making soft moaning and purring noises that went straight to Damian’s crotch. 

 

“Put on such a nice show for me,” Damian growled, pushing Dick down onto the yoga mat. 

 

Damian straddled him, gripping his ass with one hand, kneading it harshly. He ran his other hand down Dick’s side, tracing his ribs, feeling him shiver. 

 

Damian bent down, placing his lips on Dick’s stomach. He traced the line where spandex met skin with his tongue, hands grabbing Dick’s ass, pulling it up closer to his face. 

 

Lightly, he ran the tip of his index finger along the edge of the shorts, where they laid against Dick’s thigh. He hooked one finger into them, pulling it away before letting go, letting it snap back against Dick’s thigh. 

 

Damian mouthed at Dick’s cock through his shorts. The fabric did little to hide anything, and a wet spot was already forming, in parts due to Damian’s spit and Dick’s precome. 

 

Dick was arching his back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

 

Damian ran his hands over Dick’s thighs, like he was blind and Dick was braille, like he was absorbing more than just feeling through the touch. 

 

“Dami- pl-please,” Dick whined. Damian, soundlessly, brought his hands up to the top of Dick’s shorts, hooking his fingers in them, teasing at pulling them down. 

 

He let his fingernails rake over Dick’s hips as he pulled them down, leaving light red marks that would likely fade as soon as they were done. 

 

Well, he’d just have to leave something a little more permanent. 

 

Dick’s cock was free now; Damian had pulled the shorts to a rest just underneath his balls, but he didn’t focus there. Instead, he brought his mouth to Dick’s inner thigh, kissing hard enough to bruise. 

 

Dick moaned. Damian bit him, lightly, but enough to earn another moan. He continued this for a few agonizing minutes, then moved to the other thigh. 

 

The whole time, his hands dug into Dick’s ass. It was the best ass in Gotham- no, the world- no question. 

Hands down. No contest. 

 

Damian had, by now, managed to pull Dick’s shorts down around his knees, and Dick was canting his hips in the air, back arched, desperately searching for some stimulation on his neglected cock.

 

Damian had moved up, was planting kisses along Dick’s hipbones, teasing his sensitive upper thigh with his teeth. 

 

Dick was unabashedly whining now. 

 

“You’re so perfect,” Damian whispered, tracing Dick’s hipbones with his thumbs, rubbing light little circles there. 

 

He brought a hand down to Dick’s balls, squeezing them, while raking his fingernails over the shaft with his other hand. Dick let out a guttural groan, coming all over himself and Damian’s hands. 

 

Damian leaned down, licking him clean, swirling his tongue around the head of Dick’s overstimulated cock for good measure. He swiped his tongue across dick’s abs, cleaning there too, as Dick started to sit up. 

 

He was breathing heavily, hair stuck to his forehead and yet somehow still looking like a swimming pool advertisement, eyeing Damian appreciatively. 

 

“You little demon,” he croaked out with a choked groan as Damian inserted his own index finger into his mouth, sucking it clean with a pop, all the while eyebrows raised and making eye contact with Dick. 

 

Damian blinked. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said innocently. “All i wanted was to get the problem out of the way so I could train.” 

 

Dick laughed. “Yeah, well…” he looked down, where Damian was basically sitting on his lap, right next to his softening cock. 

 

“Don’t think it went as planned,” Damian said as an addendum.

 

Dick brought a hand down to Damian’s crotch, feeling him through his shorts. “Need a hand with this? Or a mouth?” 

 

Damian whined, bucking up into Dick’s hand. 

 

“Fuck,” he said, acknowledging for the first time how hard he’d become. 

“I can blow you in the showers, if you want,” Dick suggested. 

 

“You sure do know how to propose romance, Grayson.” Damian stood up, pulling Dick up after him. 

 

Dick smiled, tucking his cock back into his shorts. 

 

“So I take that as a yes?” 

 

“Of course. Race you there; I didn’t get to do cardio today.” 

 

Before Dick could protest or agree, Damian was already sprinting away towards the showers, and Dick just shook his head, running after him, laughing. 

  
He’d lose the race, surely, but it didn’t feel like much of a loss at all. 


End file.
